Chronicles of a Handkerchief
by Flareons
Summary: As Mana drifts away from him Allen finds comfort in a small piece of fabric. Young!Allen, Mana


**Title**: Chronicles of a Handkerchief  
**Author**: A. Haverstock  
**Characters**: Mana, Allen  
**Rating**: PG  
**Warnings**: n/a  
**Word Count**: 1655  
**Genre**: Angst

**Mana, Allen (D.Gray-Man) **for myself (1655 words)  
_Self-Prompt: Make a story out of my handkerchief drawing___

When Allen was seven, Mana bought two blank handkerchiefs, a few needles, and embroidery thread.

"There is one for you, and one for me," explains Mana, handing the piece of fabric to a wide-eyed Allen. The material is much nicer than anything he'd ever owned before. Mana smiles at him. "We are going to make our own designs on them," he says. "Every time we go someplace new we will embroider our favourite memory of that place before we leave it."

"But I don't know how to embroider!" Allen exclaims. "I don't want to ruin such lovely fabric!"

Mana pets him on the head lightly, "I will teach you what you need to know, and you won't ruin it if you put your heart into it."

Allen nods vigourously and his father chuckles. There is a smile on his face and Allen is glad that he's the one who put it there.

"Come, my little clown," says Mana, "We have some work to do if we want fresh strawberries for dessert."

"Of course!" replies Allen. He hasn't had strawberries since they were in Poland and even then they weren't that great. Italy, he knows, is supposed to have better strawberries than Poland. He trots over so he's walking just a little bit behind and to the side of Mana. "Where are we working today?"

Mana turns to look at him but doesn't stop. "We are going to be working near the Marketplace," he replies. Allen nearly trips over a misplaced stone on the road and grabs onto his father's cloak to keep from cracking his head on the ground. He apologizes profusely for stretching the fabric out of place.

"It isn't a problem," Mana says, "I should have asked you to hold onto my cloak to begin with since I don't want you to get lost."

Allen flushes with embarrassment and remembers the numerous times he has gotten lost in the past. He grips the fabric of Mana's cloak tightly and walks a bit closer to him.

People stare at them but he doesn't mind so long as Mana is there with him.

They end up not having strawberries for dessert and Allen spends all night stitching and unstitching meticulously until he sees a strawberry smiling up at him. His rumbling stomach and the sound of Mana's rhythmic breathing keep him company as he scrubs his handkerchief until it is white and there is no sign that his blood had ever stained it.

Mana says nothing when he wakes up to see Allen's poorly bandaged fingers.

.-.

They stop in a field of purple flowers one day with a wicker basket full of food. Allen thinks that they are near the border between Albania and Greece on the outskirts of a city called 'Lukove', but he can't be sure. He's just happy to spend some time with his father.

"Mana?" Allen calls out gently. His father is resting with his back against the trunk of a tree and if he's asleep Allen doesn't want to wake him.

"Yes, Allen?"

There is no annoyance in his tone so Allen continues, "Do you think that there are ladybugs here?"

"Why don't you go look for some?"

Allen thinks this is a good idea and does so.

It's as he's rolling down the purple hill, petals flying through the air around him like butterflies, that he hears the sound of Mana laughing. It sounds unfamiliar to his ears even though he knows he has heard his father laugh before.

He tires himself out by filling the air with petal-butterflies, hoping to keep Mana's laughter from dying out, and then lies down gingerly next to him under the shade of the leafy tree. Its bark is grey and twisted and Allen wonders what it has seen to make it that way.

"Did you have fun today, my little clown?"

Allen rolls over to look at the face of his father. He's surprised to find it to be grey and twisted; an almost-mirror of the tree he had been inspecting. He nods to his father in the positive because he is glad to have made him laugh so joyously.

"Mana?" he inquires. The man looks at him in question. Allen continues, "Why do you call me your 'little clown'?"

Mana's lips curve upwards, ever-so-slightly, "Because you keep the smile on my face."

Allen's eyes fill with tears so suddenly that it shocks him.

That night he stitches a purple flower into the corner of his handkerchief and he makes it smile at him, just a small smile -- a slight curving of the lips, really -- in an imitation of the one his father gave him that afternoon.

.-.

The sun beats heavily down on Allen as he jogs behind Mana and he is struggling to keep up with the pace his father has set for them. He trips and falls, hitting his head on the unsympathetic stone road leading out of Athens and, hopefully, to cities more willing to give them work. Mana pauses at his cry and walks over so he is standing above him.

"Get up, my little clown," he says, not making any move to aide him. "Don't stop moving."

Allen is thankful for the relief his father's shadow gives him from the sun and likes to think that this is Mana's way of helping him.

He gets up on wobbly feet and follows the retreating back of his father. He likes the sound Mana's boots make on the ground. He walks in time with his father's footsteps and strains his ears to hear the sound of his own.

Allen familiarizes himself with the sight of Mana's back against the Greek horizon and comforts himself by connecting with his father through the rhythmic beating of their footsteps.

Later that evening Allen stitches a sun onto his handkerchief by the fading candlelight. He makes it smile at him like Mana used to. He also stitches his name into the fabric because he likes the idea of having something belong to him.

He likes the idea of belonging to someone else -- if only through name -- even more.

.-.

They stop at a restaurant in Romania after making a good day's profit. Allen is starving because he hasn't eaten in two days and even though Mana hasn't either, he doesn't seen to be as keen about eating the food set out in front of them as Allen is.

The auburn-haired boy stuffs himself full of _mititei _and _peşte marinat _and a kind of stew called _tocană. _He sees what he recognizes to be a stuffed bell pepper and, remembering how much his father loves them, hands it over to Mana.

Mana smiles at him weakly and eats it slowly.

Allen turns back to his food and takes more time finishing his meal than he ever has before. He doesn't want to rush his father into leaving just because he finishes first and so he takes three servings of rice pudding (_orez cu lapte_) and two very sweet pastries called _baclava._

His father eats more food than he has in over a month and looks more healthy afterwards than he has all year.

That night Allen stitches the words 'Allen + Food' inside a poorly-made heart and Mana goes to bed before the moon rises.

.-.

The stars are bright in Hungary and Allen stares up at them all in awe from the back of the wagon he and Mana are riding in. Allen wants to wake his father up so he can look up at the sky with him and maybe have something beautiful to dream about but doesn't because he knows how little sleep his father has been getting lately.

Allen stitches a bright yellow star into his handkerchief because he wants to be able to share with Mana the sky that he's missing. He stitches with all the precision a seven-year-old can manage with nothing but the starlight to guide him.

He makes it smile at him because he's having trouble remembering what it's like to be smiled at.

.-.

They work their way through Austria and Allen's eyes try to absorb all they can of this strange and beautiful place. He hasn't seen mountains before and the sight of them leave him breathless with wonder. He sees the snow dusting them glisten from the early-morning sun.

Later on, late in the afternoon, Allen sees an apple orchard called 'Obstgut Böckl'. It's the train's next stop and he longs desperately to visit and be surrounded by fresh, bulbous red apples, but he doesn't mention it.

His father sits across from him and watches him instead of the world that passes them by.

When Mana falls asleep, as he has been doing far-too-often lately, Allen pulls out his handkerchief and stitches the biggest, reddest apple he can imagine.

He makes it smile at him, just because he can.

.-.

The day after Mana dies Allen is raped in a dark alleyway. No one hears his anguished screams and he knows at the tender age of seven just what, exactly, true loneliness is.

He stitches a smiling face into his treasured handkerchief because he can't seem to remember how.

.-.

Days later Allen finds himself sitting with his back against Mana's tombstone; tears running down his bloodied face and his aching left arm hanging limply at his side. He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him as well.

His mind is fuzzy with grief when a man with red hair and a strange face comes over and talks to him. He says that his name is Marian Cross. He brings with him hope for a better future -- a future where the death of his father will have meaning and purpose.

Weeks later, Allen finds himself stitching Timcanpy into the remaining space of his handkerchief.

He doesn't give it a smile because, sometimes, smiles aren't the answer.


End file.
